Supernatural’s 200th episode, “Fan Fiction,” is a meta-marvel. Written by Robbie Thompson and directed by Phil Sgriccia, in this episode, Dean Winchester (Jensen Ackles) and his younger brother Sam (Jared Padalecki) investigate a missing person case at an all-girls high school and discover – to their chagrin – that the drama department is adapting the Carver Edlund books into a musical (4×18).
After a “Then” that consists simply of the pilot episode’s title page being typed, the “Now” opens to a stage production: Actor!Dean and actor!Sam burst into a room, ready to save a scared teen from a ghost. The director, Marie (Katie Sarife), stops the scene, asking “Dean”/Siobhan (Alyssa Lynch), “Is this some kind of a joke to you?” Turns out, Marie’s problem is that Siobhan’s ditched the “Samulet,” which the actor explains is because it kept hitting her in the mouth. When Marie tries to convince the actor that the Samulet’s more important than physical comfort, Siobhan protests, “I’m just here for the college credit.” Though brief, this scene pokes at many ideas, including how a fandom can value something more than a show and the diverse and ever-changing motivations that lie behind acting choices.
Drama teacher Ms. Chandler (Alberta Mayne) puts an end to the erupting altercation, declaring, “There is too much drama in the drama department,” and promising to go to the principal in the morning to shut down the show. The teacher leaves, but Marie directs everyone to keep going: “Until we are all suspended, the show must go on.” While her students carry on, Ms. Chandler, who’s on the phone, complains about her students’ choice of material. Calling Supernatural an “awful, unbelievable horror story,” she protests, “Theatre is about life….Where is the truth in supernatural?” Of course, that’s when the teacher is kidnapped by, clearly, supernatural means; her cell and a starflower bloom are the only evidence left behind.
The opening sequence sets a central theme of the episode: What is the truth? It’s a fundamental question in Supernatural and one that evades a satisfactory answer. The question constantly comes up in storylines, such as the webs of lies that the Winchesters have spun at various times and Dean’s mis-remembering of Purgatory because he couldn’t handle Castiel (Misha Collins) staying behind (8×7). It’s a prominent question in meta-episodes, too, where the episodes’ narrative challenges audience assumptions and readings. Though I know it’s not for everyone, I really enjoy this type of approach.
With the soon-to-be-case established, we then see the play’s title card. It’s a simple sign with Supernatural in lights. Marie and stage manager Maeve (Joy Regullano) are discussing what else it needs, leading into a montage of every title card the show’s ever used – even the one-offs, like The X-Files homage from “Clap Your Hands If You Believe” (6×9).
The next scene occurs in a motel parking lot that’s empty except for Dean working on the Impala. Besides the fact that I always appreciate seeing Dean in mechanic mode, this suggests that he’s back to “normal,” at least as far as valuing and caring for his car again goes. When Sam comes outside, Dean tells him he’s found a case or, at least, a potential one. His brother questions his readiness, but Dean says, “hunting – it’s the only normal I know.” Then, in a shot that mimics the ending of the pilot episode, Dean drops his tools in the trunk and declares, “We’ve got work to do” before slamming it shut. I always appreciate narrative symmetry, but this mirror scene didn’t carry the same weight for me.
The Winchesters arrive at St. Alphonso’s Academy in Flint, Michigan, in the guise of FBI agents. Though Dean acts less-than-thrilled to hear that they’re dealing with a theatre production, he (again) demonstrates a fair amount of knowledge about it. The brothers’ are bantering about Sam’s brief experience as a barely “theatre-kid” when they enter the building; neither notices the Supernatural: The Musical sign being hung across the building’s front windows.
Upon entering the auditorium, they witness a faux-bearded and ball-cap-wearing student practicing exclamations of “idjit” and another trench-coated and winged student throwing a bottle and yelling, “Assbutt.” A leather-jacketed student singing lyrics that identify her character as “big brother Dean” tops off the scene. Ackles and Padalecki’s facial expressions are priceless as Dean and Sam slowly realize what they’re seeing.
When Marie sees the Winchesters, she thinks they’re publishers. The brothers show their fake badges until Sam notices actor!Dean and actor!Sam practicing with their fake!fake badges. He quickly re-pockets his and motions Dean to put his away too, giving a verbal introduction instead. Given Sam’s reaction, I suspect that their badges don’t actually read “Agent Smith” and “Agent Smith” but variations of the rock star pseudonyms they’ve always been so fond of and which were detailed in the books.
In classic Dean fashion, the eldest Winchester loudly and awkwardly protests, “There is no singing in Supernatural.” (Has he so quickly forgotten his demonic, karaoke-singing days?) Maeve clarifies that the show is “Marie’s interpretation.” But Dean is having no part of it. “If there was singing,” he argues, “it would be classic rock – not this Andrew Floyd Webber crap.” Despite Dean’s resistance to Marie’s vision here, when she says, “’Carry On Wayward Son’ is in the second act,” it’s Sam who balks. Dean and Marie speak in simultaneous disbelief at Sam’s shock, declaring, “It’s a classic.”
The Winchesters learn that Mrs. Chandler, in the aftermath of a nasty divorce, is usually sipping on “grown-up juice or passed out.” Dean openly commiserates, saying that he’s going to need “fifty Jello shots and a hose down to get this stink off me.” Sam smoothes things over with Marie and Maeve; he finds the production charming, while Dean is nauseated and amusingly grumpy.
Sam looks for EMF, while Dean accompanies Marie. He wants to play with her props, but Marie’s as protective of her things as he is of his. The first “shipping” reference occurs here. Dean notices actor!Sam and actor!Dean talking at Baby and questions, “What are they doing?” Marie tells him it’s a “BM scene,” not a “bowel movement” as Dean first thinks but a “boy melodrama” scene. He wants to know why the actors are standing so close together and is alarmed by Marie’s answer of “reasons.” Dean protests, “You know they’re brothers, right?” He takes no comfort in Marie’s response of “Duh. But… subtext.” “The Monster At The End of The Book” (4×18) first exposes Dean and Sam to the concept of Wincest, and here, Dean yells at the actors, “Why don’t you take a sub-step back there, ladies.” Marie gestures for them to do as he says, and the actors move further apart.
Meanwhile, Sam talks with Maeve about odd noises and, as she demonstrates the sound system’s effects, he reminisces about his own theatre experience from nearly twenty years ago. Maeve is unimpressed and when she leaves the booth, asks him not to touch anything. Sam doesn’t listen and messes with the stage lights, drawing the attention of actor!Sam and actor!Dean. I find the brothers’ reactions to the play symbolic: Sam is interested in the mechanics of it, how to make it work, while Dean is grappling with the narrative(s) and how the stories (and the characters) progress.
Dean is taken aback when he discovers that a robot is among the show’s props. Marie explains that she didn’t like the ending of “Swan Song” (5×22), so she changed a few things. It’s “transformative fiction,” she explains. Dean corrects her, “You mean fan fiction.” He doesn’t seem to have the best opinion of the genre and makes stereotypical assumptions. Marie retorts, “Call it whatever you like. It’s inspired by Carver Edlund’s books with a few embellishments.” In addition to the robot, some of her “embellishments” include ninjas and Dean becoming a woman for a few scenes.
Dean decides to tell her what “really happened,” and does so in a long and rather depressing run-on sentence. It’s interesting to hear his abbreviated summary of events, which leaves out so very much, reminding us that even Dean – who’s “lived” the story – doesn’t give the “truth.” For example, he doesn’t mention the Mark of Cain but he does say that Dean became a demon – “a Knight of Hell, actually” – and ends there, without sharing the resolution or the fact that Sam and Castiel saved him from the latter. (I also wonder if it’s foreshadowing that Dean’s comment about being a Knight is said rather smugly.) Regardless, Marie is unimpressed and rules it “some of the worst fanfiction that I have ever heard.” Dean looks surprised by her rejection of “his” story, and she offers the first direct challenge he has (in this episode) to the “truth” of his version.
Before their conversation continues, though, we’re given the second “ship” reference of the episode: the popular pairing often called Destiel, the portmanteau of Dean and Castiel. This is the first time that the pairing has been outright addressed in-show. When Dean notices actor!Castiel, Kristin (Nina Winkler), and actor!Dean, Siobhan, in an embrace, he asks Marie what they’re doing. She responds smugly, “Kids these days call it hugging.” He wants to know if it’s in the show, and Marie says that it’s not, that Kristin and Siobhan are a couple in real life. But, she promises, “we do explore the nature of Destiel in Act II… it’s just subtext. But, then again, … you can’t spell subtext without s-e-x.” Dean is processing this information when Ackles breaks the Fourth Wall and looks directly into the camera, which he says was not-scripted.
The next scene picks up with Dean apparently explaining about Destiel and subtext to his brother as they leave the building. Sam responds, “I don’t understand.” Dean answers, “Me either.” But in a scene that had me laughing, the brothers are talking about entirely different things. Sam’s confusion stems from the pronunciation of the portmanteau: “Shouldn’t it be Dea-stiel?” Dean blusters a bit more as Sam ponders, “How about Sastiel? Samstiel?” Dean cuts him off, “You know what? You’re going to do that thing where you just shut the hell up forever.”
The conversation turns back to the case, and Sam says, “Other than the Charlie Kauffman of it all, I got nothing.” Dean only found a “pile of empty bottles and regret” in Mrs. Chandler’s office. What’s interesting here to me is that Dean seems somewhat reluctant to accept that there’s no case and asks Sam outright for confirmation: “There is no case?” Sam says in a sympathetic tone, “Unless you’re seeing something I’m not. No, Dean. There’s no case here.” I think there’s a deliberate emphasis on the potential of differing perspectives here, yet Dean accepts Sam’s judgment and goes to get in the car. Sam is already back to pondering portmanteaus and suggests “CasDean?” At this point, a flustered Dean orders him to “Shut your face. Get in the car.”
The episode isn’t over yet, though, and while the Winchesters leave campus, they don’t get so far that they can’t come back when the next person disappears. This time, it’s Maggie, who portrays actor!Sam. She and Marie argue; Maggie’s unwilling to follow the latter’s “little dictatorship” and argues, “If it’s not canon, it shouldn’t be in the show.” She quits and says she’s going to get the show shut down. Before she can leave the school parking lot, though, she’s kidnapped by a terrifying scarecrow. Marie goes to investigate but only finds Maggie’s abandoned bicycle and another flower.
Back on the scene, Marie tells the Winchesters what she saw, but she’s rather morose. “I called the cops and a bunch of adults just told me I had an overactive imagination. But it’s all real.” Whether or not anyone believes her, Marie’s confident in what she saw and what she now knows – that there are supernatural things in the world. Sam, after a nod of agreement from Dean, proceeds to tell Marie and Maeve that they’re the Winchesters, a revelation that sends the girls into gales of laughter because “those books are works of fiction.” Maeve adds, “You guys are way too old to be Sam and Dean.” So many episodes in the past two seasons have purposefully emphasized that the Winchesters’ age, but this is also a statement on simply how far the narrative’s progressed – They are too old to be season five Sam and Dean. Getting their cover back on track, Dean clarifies that they are hunters like in the books. Maeve and Marie accept this idea: “You guys are X-Files.”
The four go to the very well-equipped school library to research the likelihood that the scarecrow is a tulpa, and while Sam doubts enough “psychic energy” is being generated to produce one, Dean and Marie burn the prop scarecrow anyway. (It’s funny to see how terrifying Marie finds the prop but Dean only finds it ridiculous.) Sam and Maeve discover that the starflower is connected to Calliope, the goddess of inspiration and a muse. Calliope protects the author until the vision is realized, at which point she’ll literally consume the author. At first, Dean is visible relieved, thinking that this means the end of the play, but Sam points out that anyone who tries to shut down the play has been taken. Reluctantly, Dean tells Marie that means, “The show must go on.”
At the prospect of potentially being eaten, Marie hyperventilates. Dean, wide-eyed, obviously wants to be anywhere but there, but Sam quickly says he’ll take care of blessing the wooden stakes while Dean deals the teenagers. As always, Dean deals well with them. He reassures Marie, even calls her “champ.” When she takes the blame for everything and calls the play “dumb,” he tells her it’s not. “I thought you didn’t believe in this interpretation,” Maeve comments. “I don’t,” Dean says, “Like – at all. But you do. And I need you to believe in it with all you got so we can kill Calliope and save your friends.” Taking inspiration from the Sam and Dean she’s read and written about, Marie takes strength, especially from her “sweet, brave, selfless Sam.” Dean’s expression at the revelation that Marie is a Sam!girl is priceless; it’s also an ironic revelation considering that it’s Dean with whom Marie is bonding.
Marie has understudied Sam, so with Maggie missing, she takes on the role. As they prepare for the play to begin, Marie acts as director, checking actor!Castiel’s wings and arranging actor!Dean’s samulet. Dean, who’s adjusting actor!Castiel’s tie, hears what Marie says. Confused, he asks, “The samulet?” Marie explains that it’s “a symbol of the Winchesters’ brotherly love.” Dean looks shocked, and all I can think is that there’s a whole discussion in there about readers, symbols, and meaning-making. This episode has so many meta layers!
Sam arrives with the blessed stakes and awkwardly slips one to Dean. It’s Sam who notices that Chuck’s missing from the cast, but Marie says, “The whole author inserting themselves into the narrative thing it’s just not my favorite. I kind of hate the meta stories.” The Winchesters respond simultaneously, “Me too.” What’s interesting here, though, is that even if authors don’t insert themselves as characters, readers still contend with the idea of the “implied author.” And, in this case, Marie is playing Sam, so while not playing herself, it’s her version of Sam who’s now in the play.
The episode then goes more meta with Dean spinning a different narrative than the one he’s been espousing. He admits to the cast, “I know I have expressed some differences of opinion… but tonight it’s all about Marie’s vision. This is Marie’s Supernatural… Put as much sub into that text as you possible can…Now you get out there, and you kick it in the ass.” He then goes on to quote Rent, though not enough to get them “in trouble,” demonstrating yet again that some of Dean Winchester’s “truths” are definitely up for debate. In this case, it’s another reminder that Dean possesses more knowledge about theatre, etcetera, than he usually cares to reveal.
Marie welcomes the audience and directs the front rows to the ponchos under their seats. This revelation confirms yet another meta level: This play is going to physically affect the audience or, at least, those who are closest to the stage/text. The play gets underway, with Dean and Sam on opposing ends of the stage. Dean watches part of play and bops his head along to “The Road So Far” until Maeve notices, and he, seemingly somewhat embarrassed, stops. In contrast, Sam is investigating shadows and sounds on his end and doesn’t seem to take any notice of what’s happening on stage. Because Dean is watching, he sees the Scarecrow appear behind Sam, but when he gestures, Sam can’t “read” what his brother is saying. Though Sam’s in danger, instead of running across the stage and inserting himself into the performance, Dean goes backstage. But by the time he gets there, Sam is gone.
Here, the episode begins alternating between Dean and Sam. Sam regains consciousness in the basement, where Mrs. Chandler and Maggie are also being held. Calliope appears, telling him, “You’re going to miss the big show”
On stage, the play is depicting a scene from “The End” (5×4), where actor!Castiel sings the poignant “I’ll Just Wait Here for You,” about his devotion to actor!Dean. Considering that, in show, Dean and Castiel often demonstrate their bond in situations where the other doesn’t know it (Cas watching Dean rake leaves (6×20), Dean praying to Cas (8×1), etc.) I wanted Dean to hear this song. But sadly, I don’t think that Dean hears much of it, as he’s first making his way through backstage again and then directing Marie to “stick to the plan” as they regroup, waiting for the Scarecrow to reappear.
In the basement, Calliope tells Sam, “I’ve consumed many authors, many stories… I knew something special was brewing with this one. Maybe it’s because the stories’ actual inspiration was here…. Guess I’m just going to have to kill you and your brother to find out.” Sam tries to buy time, asking about the need for the story to be “realized,” but she shudders. Commenting on Act II, she says, “There’s robots and tentacles in space. I can’t even.”
Back on stage, actor!Sam/Marie is singing “A Single Man Tear.” (Warning: This song gets into your head and won’t leave for days.) Actor!Sam/Marie sings the poignant lyrics, “underneath the manly sheen is my brother, a boy named Dean.” Again, sadly, Dean doesn’t hear the song because he’s busy trying to save Sam – both his brother Sam and actor!Sam. After Marie finishes her part of the song and actor!Dean takes over, the Scarecrow appears. This time, Dean runs across the stage and tackles the Scarecrow, as a startled actor!Dean, who’s in the spotlight, continues singing about his brother Sam. When Dean crashes on stage, Maeve announces through her headset – fittingly – “We’re through the looking glass here, people.” To accommodate the change in direction, she gives the stagehands orders on what to do next, all of which I see as another statement on the malleability of text.
While Dean fights the Scarecrow, Sam tries stalling Calliope, asking “Why this story?” Her answer? “Supernatural has everything – life, death, resurrection, redemption. But above all, family. All set to music you can really tap your toe too…. Not genre dreck. It’s epic.” The scene shifts briefly back to the play, and I love seeing the audience member front and center readying his poncho as Dean’s fight with the scarecrow escalates. Ironically, considering how hard Dean’s trying to save everyone, it’s Sam, and both actor!Sams, who save themselves.
The scarecrow tosses Dean across the stage and turns to actor!Sam/Marie, while in the basement, the first actor!Sam/Maggie whacks Calliope in the head with a heavy book. Ms. Chandler kicks the blessed stake to Sam, and he stabs the muse from behind. On stage, actor!Sam/Marie grabs the stake that Dean dropped and yells, “No chick flick moments!” before rushing the Scarecrow and stabbing him from the front. The Scarecrow totters backwards, arms wide, and when Calliope explodes into purple goo, he does too. The shocked and purpled audience stares, many open-mouthed, and a nervous Marie stares back. Poncho guy stands and leads a standing ovation, and Marie visibly relaxes at the audience’s approval.
Dean, now back to his feet, motions her forward, directing Marie, “Take a bow, Sammy.” The use of the nickname isn’t accidental. It emphasizes that, here, the play has truly intersected with the Winchesters’ version of Supernatural. Though he had no intention of being on display or of participating in this narrative, Dean became a player in the play. As actor!Sam and actor!Dean take their bows, Dean stands in the background, awkwardly shuffling and only slightly bowing. The curtain falls, signaling Intermission.
Free from the basement, Sam is walking with Maeve, who notes, “Usually this is where Sam and Dean take off before anyone asks any questions.” Sam admits, “That’s probably a good idea.” But the stage manager has something else to say: “You know, if you cut your hair a little, you’d make a pretty good Dean.” I can’t help but think that last season, a comment like that would have likely set Sam off. Now, though a myriad of emotions flit across his face, he simply says, “Thanks.”
Talking with Marie, Dean admits, “This has been educational – seeing the story from your perspective. You keep writing, Shakespeare.” She asks, “Even if it doesn’t match how you see it?” This time, Dean doesn’t argue or suggest that the source material is privileged, though. Instead, he says, “I have my version; you have yours.” He goes to walk away when Marie calls him by name: “Dean?” He turns around, surprised to be told, “You never should’ve thrown this away.” With that, Marie hands him the faux-Samulet. Dean’s comments here disregard the amulet’s symbolism, confirming that after “Dark Side of the Moon,” his feelings about it truly changed. In apparent reference to its God-finding abilities, Dean says, “It never really worked.” And as for the meaning ascribed to the amulet by the play (and many a fic), he adds, “I don’t need a symbol to remind me how I feel about my brother.” Marie isn’t having it and tells him, “Just take it. Jerk.” He responds automatically, “Bitch” as he takes it from her and realizes what he’s said in the same moment; Dean’s shock and apology are obvious on his face. Marie laughs; Dean mutters “Right”; and he pockets the faux-amulet, leaving the stage at the beginning of what I presume is Act II.
Dean and Sam watch the beginning of actor!Dean and actor!Sam’s “BM” scene in Baby. Dean comments that he guesses they “can go back to staring at motel room walls,” but Sam has changed his mind: “You know what, Dean? You were right. Staying cooped up isn’t helping us –” Just then, in a scene where, clearly, the play is talking to the Winchesters, they hear actor!Sam say, “We need to get back on the road, Dean. Doing what we do best…The two of us against the world.” It’s a poignant scene, and while I see it as a callback to the first five seasons and the Winchesters’ bond, I also see it as a turning point: As has already been pointed out, Dean and Sam are no longer the “Dean and Sam” of the books. But that doesn’t mean that they can’t be brothers and friends or that they can’t work together. Rather than finding his own words, Sam lets the character speak for him: “What she said.” Dean nods in apparent acquiescence.
One of my favorite scenes then happens, as actors file onto the stage to sing “Carry On Wayward Son.” Actor!Mary leads the song, with actor!John, actor!Bobby, actor!Dean, and actor!Sam joining her. When Kristen, who plays Cas, joins the stage in a hoodie, my first thought was “human!Cas,” which didn’t make sense because those books (presumably) aren’t written. Sam looks confused too and asks Maeve, “Who is that?” He and Dean exchange uncomfortable looks when she explains, “Oh that’s Adam. John Winchester’s other kid. He’s still trapped in the cage. In Hell. With Lucifer.”
It looks like Dean and Sam may be leaving when they, instead, step a little closer to the stage, where they can better see Mary. As the cast sings, the brothers look nostalgic, even teary. It’s a touching scene, and as I watched, I kept wondering what a current interpretation would look like – a lot has happened in the last five seasons, and Marie’s source material ended with “Swan Song,” when Dean thinks Sam is dead, Sam’s mysteriously back from the Cage but doesn’t immediately tell Dean, and Castiel is embroiled in a heavenly civil war. The Winchesters’ definition of family has shifted quite a bit, and for me, this scene reminds me of how much their universe – their family – has expanded, as well as all that they’ve individually experienced.
I assume that the Winchesters leave the play before the “robots and tentacles in space” take the stage. Back in the Impala, Dean pulls the faux-Samulet from his pocket and hangs it from the rearview. For me at least, its meaning is different now: I read it as a symbol of the brothers’ shared past, of the circumstances that positioned “the two of [them] against the world.” Hanging it on the rearview makes sense, as a reminder of where they’ve been, even as Dean hits the gas and the Impala races down the highway, on to wherever they go next. I’d like to think that we’ll see the brothers’ friendship back on track and Dean’s recovery from “demonhood” progress because of what they learned/were reminded of in this episode.
This time, the Impala driving off (literally) into the sunset isn’t the episode’s last scene. Back at the now-nearly-empty auditorium, Maeve interrupts Marie’s post-play conversation to tell her that the ticket she’d left for “the publisher” was claimed and that he’s there. Marie is shocked, and wonders if Calliope was there for her after all, but Maeve cuts her off. “Who cares? Go, fangirl!” Marie races up the stairs, to the same spot where she first spoke with the Winchesters. Excitedly, she greets him: “Hi! Thank you so much for coming. I know the second act is a little wonky and the first act has some issues. But what did you think?”
There’s a long pause as the camera travels from Marie’s expectant face to the supposed publisher’s. I may or may not have shrieked when I realized it was Chuck (Rob Benedict) himself. He surveys the stage and says, very contemplatively, “Not bad.” This moment cinched the episode for me, and even now, after rewatching several times, I get teary-eyed when I see Benedict’s smile; the scene is even more poignant in light of his recovery from a stroke. It’s not only awesome to see the return of Chuck, whom many believe to be God, but to see the actor’s return.
I admit that I’ve been nervous about this episode; “musical-ish” episodes can be hit or miss, and I was disappointed that Misha Collins and Mark Sheppard wouldn’t be included in the episode. The synopsis increased my anxiety because unfortunately, after Becky’s season seven portrayal (7×8), I worried about how fangirls, transformative works, and shipping would be represented. I was happily surprised by Thompson’s script and Sgriccia’s directing – and, of course, the amazing performances by Ackles, Padalecki, Satrafi, Winkler, and the rest of the guest cast.
Meta episodes are among my favorite things, and “Fan Fiction” is so very “meta,” resisting reductive readings, encouraging and challenging the audience to think about layers and textual elements, all while contemplating a quintessential question: “What is truth?” I could write even more deconstructing this episode and its narrative structure, but I’ll refrain. I can’t, however, resist briefly addressing the episode’s repeated references to Shakespeare, which fill my literature-loving heart with joy.
During his lifetime, William Shakespeare’s plays were performed by all-male troupes. (It’s a glorious thing to perform gender analysis of the plays considering that seventeenth century context.) However, that’s flipped in “Fan Fiction,” where an all-girl cast plays the roles as written/transformed by Marie, whom Dean repeatedly calls “Shakespeare.” In case we’ve missed the significance, when Dean investigates Mrs. Chandler’s office, there’s a large, prominently placed Shakespeare poster that declares, “Theatre is life,” a direct echo of what the teacher says before being kidnapped. But what’s really interesting about all of this is that Shakespeare, whom today is consistently included as part of the Literary Canon, wasn’t always so highly revered during his own time. He wrote plays for the people, and some of his most famous and still-popular derive from other sources – Hamlet and the Ur-Hamlet, for example. So we could say that Shakespeare himself is a writer of transformative works, a reading that encourages reconsideration of what we consider to be “original” and “source” texts, as well as what we consider “canon.” And since Shakespeare’s Hamlet is, by far, more popular than the earlier stories it drew from, what does that suggest about the power of Transformative Works, a/k/a “Fan Fiction”? I think it’s a conversation that’s worth having.
With the 200th episode milestone now happily achieved, next week Supernatural searches for clues with “Ask Jeeves.” Watch the preview before the episode airs on Tuesdays at 9:00 ET on the CW network.
Other notes:
- In various interviews and convention talks, Ackles has said that the amulet resulted in chipped teeth and that he was glad when Dean no longer wore it.
- Dean to Sam re: “You ran tech, Wolverine”
- Maggie assuring Siobhan that Marie just never stops, you were great.
- I kind of love that “Sam hit a dog” has become a euphemism.
- After hearing his horrible version of events, Marie says that she’ll send Dean fic links. I’d love to see that happen.
- Calliope’s consumption of the author can be examined in relation to Roland Barthes’s post-structuralist essay “Death of the Author.”
- I laughed out loud when the Winchesters’s see the cast use “Ghostfacers” for their pre-play huddle.
- For those interested, there are many online resources with information about transformative works, including Archive of Our Own, which archives fan works and is a project of the Organization of Transformative Works.
There are so many ways that “Fan Fiction” can be read, and these are only a few of my thoughts. How did you read the episode? Share in the comments below!